The Illimitable Ocean of Inexplicability

Month: April, 2015

I call this one ‘Front Porch Table with Objects’, I don’t know what you call it

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I took the photo, or, if you like, captured the image, above at approximately 5:40 pm pacific standard time. So, if it is near that time when you look at it chances are pretty good that you are seeing it exactly the way it is right now. Although, to be honest, it has been this way for close to two months, and will probably remain that way for another two (or more!). Remind me in July to check.

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If you’re interested in participating, please, join me this Saturday between noon and three in the park downtown where I will be leading a charge against THE MAN

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THE MAN

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Most of you know me as a lover, and are completely unaware of the fighter side of my personality, so it’s completely understandable that you’d feel some amount of shock upon reading the above poem. This, I fully admit, is my fault as I never think to advertise my constant struggle against those awful men in power. To mention it would be like informing someone that I was breathing, it’s just what I do as a living creature, I fight THE MAN!

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An intimate look at the poet’s process

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luckuyLucky Carmen on the front porch

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I was on the porch with Lucky Carmen earlier when suddenly I began to receive (from whence-ever they are sent to a poet) the following words

Lucky Carmen, Lucky Carmen

You’ll never catch her

squeezin’ the Charmin

As you can (no doubt) imagine I was very excited to have the opening lines of what was sure to be an epic poem come to me so easily. However, as with most things having to do with our struggles while occupying this mortal coil I soon realized whence from they were actually inspired. Which, as you can (no doubt) imagine made me feel kind of creepy.

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Now you’ve really gone and done it!

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It Happened to Me: I was just jammin’ to the tunes minding my own business when all of the sudden…

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nonsense, lies, and exaggeration

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“Great art is horseshit, buy tacos.”

– Charles Bukowski

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Horseshit

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And you may ask yourself: 2015 was supposed to be the year of The Varmint Trap, wasn’t it?

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And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth.

– Genesis 1:26

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Yes, 2015 most certainly was to be the year of The Varmint Trap. I remember, not so long ago, saying aloud to whomever had ears to hear that 2015 was officially the year of The Varmint Trap. And, as I said it, as well as wrote it, and furthermore have on occasion uttered the words, “So let it be written, so let it be done”, spoken originally by the actor Yul Brynner in the spectacular 1956 film, ‘The Ten Commandments’, in which he portrayed the Egyptian Pharaoh ‘Ramses’, it seems that their should be no more question about it. However, being that it is nearly May, and I have not for months bothered to remind any of you about this being the year of The Varmint Trap I may have no choice but to delay the whole thing until next year. But, until then I leave you with this confession

I have killed

in a calculated fashion

a number of creatures

I call ‘Varmints’

and then buried them

in the northeast corner of my property

under a group of very large walnut trees

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This World is Mine

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“What you lookin’ at? You all a bunch of fuckin’ assholes. You know why? You don’t have the guts to be what you wanna be. You need people like me. You need people like me so you can point your fuckin’ fingers and say, “That’s the bad guy.” So… what that make you? Good? You’re not good. You just know how to hide, how to lie. Me, I don’t have that problem. Me, I always tell the truth. Even when I lie. So say good night to the bad guy! Come on. The last time you gonna see a bad guy like this again, let me tell you. Come on. Make way for the bad guy. There’s a bad guy comin’ through! Better get outta his way!”

– Tony Montana

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Yes, it’s all mine. My world. I discovered it, planted my flag, made something out of it. You, well, you walked by it countless times with barely a passing thought. Not once did you stop to have a look. Honestly, you probably didn’t care, you weren’t interested. That’s fine, you didn’t have to be, but now, now all the sudden you want a part of it. You tell everyone you’re entitled to it because you’ve been walking past it for months, but for bullshit reasons couldn’t take the time to stop. And then, in a jealous fit, you go around telling anyone who will listen it’s unfair that I could stop and have a look. You even try telling me I somehow didn’t really earn it. Well, you know what? Fuck you, it’s mine.

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From L. Ron Hubbard’s Office

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“Never regret yesterday. Life is in you today and you make your tomorrow”

– L. Ron Hubbard

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Well, I hope you guys aren’t all like “This dude’s a religious nut”, because I’m not, not really. I like to think of myself more as a ‘seeker’. Not a ‘Hunter-Seeker’, obviously, as I am not a “tiny floating tadpole-like machine” used by assassins and powered by a Holtzman Field Generator. Which, while a terribly efficient device for the purposes of killing, can be easily destroyed as was memorably proven on the great desert planet, Arrakis, when Paul Atreides (also called ‘Muad’Dib’) smashed and submerged in water one that had been sent to murder him. No, it would be a little more difficult to smash and submerge me. Take my word for it, I know, my brother used to try it in our back yard swimming pool every summer. But, be it by the will of the man upstairs or by some chance of a million years of evolution I emerged from that pool the man before you today, the man you’re allowed to call, The President and Founder.

Yes, The President and Founder of The Institute for the Study of Slightly Varying Circumstances dedicated to exploring the mysterious WHO, WHAT, WHEN, WHY and WHERE of it all. Even going so far, at great personal peril to himself, as to spend some time in the office of L. Ron Hubbard you see above. The office, I admit, isn’t really HIS office it’s simply an office kept in HIS memory that anyone can find when visiting a traditional Church of Scientology dedicated to HIS true writings and ideals.

However, I don’t suggest you try this. The reason being that I have watched most of you for some time, and though it seems harsh of me to say, you couldn’t handle it. I’m sorry, but I can see you now walking into a Church of Scientology (dedicated to HIS ideals and writings) thinking you’re all bad ass like me and the next thing you know you’re on the e-meter confessing your deepest darkest secrets to some nut job who will excuse himself for a moment in order to get on the phone to Scientology HQ so as to inform them that a new personal toe nail cutter for John Travolta has been found. So, please, leave this kind of shit to me.

.your pal,

The President and Founder

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Satisfy Your Cravings

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“Crave for a thing, you will get it. Renounce the craving, the object will follow you by itself”
– Swami Sivananda

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Go ahead, satisfy your cravings, I’m not going to stop you. Why should I? It’s not what the man upstairs has planned for me. I know, I checked. Got a glimpse into the Big Guy’s files after participating in a ritual the details of which would blow your freaking minds. And, since I have no desire (because it’s not in the plans) to be responsible for your mind coming apart in an unpleasant manner I’m not going to tell you anything more about it. In fact, you’d be better off just forgetting I even said anything. Just go back to doing whatever it is you’re doing, and don’t worry yourself about it. Believe me, you don’t have to, it’s not in the plan. I know, I’ve seen them.

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